flower in a field of weeds
by merveilles
Summary: i've got a sickness pounding in my head; "just for tonight." — levipetra.


**a/n**: writing from levi's perspective just makes me want to cry a little 'cause he's so angst. also, just a wee note - i made petra's first expedition Ilse's notebook 'cause i kinda forgot that it wasn't when writing and yeah woops. also no peeing here. just petra freakin out. and some information is just plain _wrong _but i really did not want to scale the manga for the right stuff and it's 4am and this is usual unedited spew which i should probs stop doing. (this also looked so much longer on word wtf).

**. **

flower in a field of weeds

**.**

_he may be out of his mind, but some day you will find  
that sanity's left us all blind, and dragged us all behind._

**.**

Levi has seen the heavens fall. He has witnessed his world go up in flames, once, twice, three times (_more times than he can count_) and has fought with every goddamn bone in his body to relinquish his world: has seen his comrades fall before him in rows of millions — their flesh yet another catalyst for destruction, burning through this city and igniting it _beyond help. _He has seen years' worth of suffering. He has touched hell and climbed back again.

He _is _hell. Grown, grey eyes like steel plates and hair darker than the ink he uses to sign off with a curving _L. _His heart punctured, worn, unsteady within its cages, and yet here he is—breathing, barely, _so close_—and he can't even take her ashen tears.

Petra is not a woman who often gets this upset. He's noted with experience that she tends to shoulder pain, take it on the chin, and move on with an easy smile and a few words of uttered encouragement. His understanding of her emotional functioning is, admittedly, limited (he doesn't like to get involved with these types of situations) but she makes it so painfully easy. She begs it, today of all days, and he cannot deny her.

For whatever reason he's compelled to stand close—close enough to detect hints of coffee beans, honeysuckle and something that reminds him of dew in the mornings—as she hiccups through a bout of sobs. He hasn't enquired as to _why _she's in this state, though he fears for the worst, but it's clearly something that's dear to her.

"C-Corporal," she stumbles over words, clumsy as he's ever seen her. Petra sniffs back a large sob, trapping it in for his sake mostly. She knows how he detests unhygienic people. "I'm sorry. This is… inappropriate."

Though he is acutely aware of the snot that pokes out of her button nose, Levi ignores it resolutely. This is hardly the time to be picky however awkward and uncomfortable this is, he's going to at least _try_ and not be an insensitive prick (no guarantees though).

"What is it, Ral?" he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Petra wipes her nose with her sleeve and finally meets his gaze, smouldering and fiery. It only stops her for a split second before she smiles sadly and explains, "I just received a letter from my pa. One of my cousins gave birth a few days ago and well… the baby died not long after."

Levi watches as her amber eyes hover around his cravat, avoiding his gaze. He can't imagine why she would be so put-out to avoid it, having stared into his eyes many times before. But again he holds his led tongue and allows her to continue.

"It's… silly, I know." she waves her hand, chewing her lip. "But I can't help but think — it's not even titan's taking lives anymore. It's nature. _Life. _I almost forgot it had that power." she meets his eyes now, a fierce sort of hurricane swirling within them and burning ember ashes right into his flesh. Levi doesn't move but he offers her a tight-lipped frown.

"It would do you best not to forget, Ral," he says stonily. "Titans are not our only threat."

"Corporal?" she looks so innocent, wide-eyed like a deer, inquisitive, interested, _invested. _Her life pledged to this goddamn fucking system, a life that could easily be thrown away, eaten, set on fire.

He shakes his head and pulls a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, flourishing it in her direction. Petra catches it with practiced ease, like he assumed she might, and stares at it with the same perplexed look he's grown so frighteningly accustomed to. Levi doesn't stay to watch, turning gracefully on one boot and marching back off to shout at Hanji for something or another — he's never seen her cry again, and the lingering thoughts of her eyes turned to grey smoke thereon out leaves a bitter taste upon his tongue.

** .**

Petra keeps his handkerchief. She said she wouldn't, said she'd give it back right after she's washed it thoroughly, but when she presses it to her nose to blow out the gross snot stuck up there, his scent attacks her without permission.

Musky, like old parchment and spicy cologne and pine trees. He smells a little like his precious cleaning products too, and that has her giggling like a school girl. It's dizzying and overwhelming how much she enjoys his smell, it's nothing like she's ever felt before. This feels almost profound in its unexpectedness, silent like a creeping shadow and almost as terrifying. Petra keeps his handkerchief because, although not intentionally, it's a part of _him _he let her have.

And that sends her stomach into a frenzy of bittersweet butterflies, flapping against her rip cage and eager to escape out of her mouth. Press against _his. _Warmth harbouring upon his smooth mouth, trapping her feelings between them in a flurry of birdwings and pretty bright lights.

_oh, _she thinks later that day.

_he's so very important to me. _

Could I…?

**.**

Something Levi learns quickly is that Petra is _always _up, and is _always _clanking about in the kitchen. She hums softly to herself, something he doesn't recognize, perhaps a hymn from where she used to live. Perhaps not. He might very well just be out of the loop, but nevertheless, it sounds intricate and lovely when she thinks nobody is around.

Levi doesn't stay within the shadows long, though, and clears his throat to alert her. He's leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed and face devoid of any emotion. Petra whirls round, autumn leaf coloured hair a whirlwind around her, as she comes to face him. He cocks an eyebrow at her pink apron and matching pink gloves.

He recalls those being where he left his similar white ones.

"_Oh._" she breathes a sigh of relief and smiles. "It's only you, Corporal. If you'd have been Auruo or even Erd I don't think I'd live it down."

He doesn't answer her, simply moving to seat himself at the wooden table. Petra soon turns around and continues whatever she had been doing before he entered. He finds that with Petra silence comes with no underlying consequences or unanswered questions. There's no forced pretences or need for idle, annoying small talk. She acts as if he very well doesn't exist, and he in turn, remains a silent entity by her side.

Around twenty minutes later she breaks the silence with a cheerful, "Would you like some coffee, Corporal?"

Levi inclines his head to meet her smiling face, finding it a much preferred sight to the crying one that has ingrained itself upon his memory. "Of course." is all he needs to say. If it had been anyone else he might have demanded it before he'd even sat down, but something bites down on his tongue and keeps him from ordering her around like most others. He doesn't like to think of it as favouritism, as he barely knows her—not enough to deem her a favourite, at least—but he might recall this fracturing feeling as _affection. _

She certainly doesn't grate on his nerves like other imbeciles, and if he's managed to keep himself from lashing out (_yet_) then he supposes she's at least worth some of his carefully measured time.

Later, he'll remember the way she passed him his coffee cup with the sides of her lips taunt, eyes brighter than the stars that litter the sky. He'll think of it as nothing more than her sunny disposition.

But his heart may very well betray him again.

**.**

Their very first expedition is one that Petra has been anticipating. A calendar with x's mark the final day, and she packs all the essentials with tremors running rampant down her spine. She's scared, of course (_don't be stupid_) but she's also been growing restless with the need to _prove herself. _Yes she was chosen for Levi's elite squad, but it's not enough, is it?

Because Corporal hasn't seen her in action—neither has her squad. She may be the least in experience, but she is not a hindrance and she is _not _weak. Scared, yes, but weak? Never. How could she ever be weak with a squad as well coordinated and perfectly matched as Levi's? It was enough to stop her stomach from crawling with nausea.

Enough to keep her limbs moving forwards as they exited wall Maria.

Enough to keep her eyes peeled and her heart firm.

Enough to stay cool, calm and collected.

That was, until, they came across Ilse's dairy, and essentially, Ilse. Her body stuffed upright into the root of a tree, haphazard in its placing but clearly intentional. Petra saw her first. Her blood bursting in thick ringlets within her body, sending a wave of pure _disgust _churning through her. Ilse's body remained, but her head was severed.

She says severed but she means _eaten. _

This must have been by the titan Levi took care of whilst Hanji was trying to coax it.

They're arguing, unaware of what is plain as day, and Petra has to forcefully remove her tongue from her the roof of her mouth to bring attention to it—_c-corporal… look. _The words don't wedge and she's almost afraid if she opens her mouth nothing but vomit will escape but—but—but

"_Corporal!_" she almost screams. Every heard turns towards her, and Levi notices the edge of her words are skewed and impatient. "Look." she nods towards the tree.

He turns and sees. Something akin to repulsion ripples beneath the surface of his skin, but it's dulled immediately by the simple fact that: _i've seen worse. _It's a purely monstrous thought, something he himself is disgusted by, but it's the truth. And that remains fact. Levi moves forwards to inspect, Hanji in tow, but treads on something as he does so.

Bending down, he inspects the diary with shrewd eyes and tingling fingers. This… is an account. Evidently, this person has left behind evidence of whatever hell they found out here, and by the looks of it, they wrote in it until the very last second their body drew breath.

"We don't have the luxury of time," Levi says, low, as he walks back towards his squad. "We'll bring this back with us and then return." He turns to Petra and eyes her for a moment too long, can already predict that she's a mess inside, but there's no time for words of comfort or whatever else he expects to tumble from his usually tight lips. "Get a move on!" he orders instead.

**.**

There's a thud on his door at around two in the morning.

Its been three days since the first expedition and since then Hanji has had her wish granted — they've bought back two titans to inspect under surveillance, and he hasn't seen Petra since. He supposes it's not out of the ordinary considering how much time he spends alone, locked up and taming his reports.

But she's even been absent during the mornings, and the void of her gentle humming has been mutually missed. Levi has found he's not the only person who lulls to her music (Auruo, that slimy dick, takes joy in it too). Levi instead throws himself head first into work and the days and the nights shift together, allowing him peace and quiet.

But tonight she's loud, and persistent, and its been eight months since she arrived.

He gathers the papers askew upon his desk and throws them in a draw, taking a mental note to clean them up in the morning. Standing, he strides towards the door and unlocks it, opening it. Petra falls right into him, not even abashed by her evident forwardness, and as Hanji might remark — bravery. Not many people have the balls or the will to touch him.

"Weak," he hears her murmur into his shirt.

Not entirely understanding, Levi steps aside and she follows his movements. They stand in the middle of his room, lit only by candles, flickering against the shadows of furniture and his stained past, she looks up at him and worries her lip.

"Just for tonight."

Levi levels her gaze and takes a firm grip of her shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "Petra," he says, a command lying in his tone. She looks so innocent again. "What are you doing here."

She doesn't cry, like he expects, but simply steps away and bows her head. Its taken her all her courage and then some to approach him in this vulnerable state, feelings set aflame by the way he acknowledges her, pearl eyes stitching cobwebs in her dreams and following her into the vast blackness. Eight months.

Is it enough to declare her life to him?

"I'm sorry, Corporal."

How many times has he heard that before? Levi turns away from her, his shoulders stiff, a hole gaping in his chest and digging nails deep into his soul. He doesn't want to remember it now. Of hellfire and rapid loss of soldiers, of houses up in flame and of screams eating right into the heart of him—

Her fingers graze his knuckles. He barely notices how he's clenched them tight enough to press crescent moons into his palm, blood streaming through the cracks in his fingers. Knuckles stark white, hot and unrelenting. He turns sharp eyes on her, then down to the exchange.

Levi's jaw clenches around the next words, fearful, he tries desperately to claw them back down and keep them buried deep inside him, like the rest of his fucking mistakes… but: "Just for tonight."

**.**

On the arrival of Eren, Levi is about as cheerful as a dead man.

His responsibility is to keep Eren from going whack and killing absolutely everybody, and that is it. But now he's babysitting this brat and it's driving him absolutely fucking insane. Eren, despite the past occurrences, is pleasant and cheerful and polite when the time calls for it. He's still fearful of Levi after having Levi's boot rooted to his face, but his confidence grows with each day.

And Mikasa. Mikasa whose eyes are icy like cold lakes, sharp as they dig pressure into the back of his head and judge his every move as one of an attack. He doesn't like either of them, and personally, he finds himself regretting even sparing this idiots life.

But Petra takes to Eren like her own family: a smile that uproots her lips and plants warmth in anyone within range, she welcomes both Eren and Mikasa as if neither of them have done anything worth watching over.

He orders a clean-up of the castle the minute they arrive, having Eren do most of the hard labour. The boy is eager to oblige and storms upon the castle like a deranged cow. Hanji makes a comment about it reminding her of a certain _corporal _and he has _her _cleaning up the dungeons.

Whilst Levi attacks the room he'll be staying in, he's joined by Petra, whose holding up some detergent and is spraying it around in random directions. Luckily, he has his white mask covering his mouth and nose, so the toxin doesn't affect him, but he's still outwardly displeased by her misuse of cleaning products. She should be well accustomed to his habits by now.

"Corporal," she greets, smiling.

"Petra." Levi narrows his eyes to slits. "Just what the fuck are you doing?"

Petra laughs. Levi still can't decide whether he finds her giggling and sort-of-cackling cute or downright disturbing, but he lets her finish either way. When she composes herself, she says, "I just thought you could use some help is all. I've finished the first floor with Gunther."

Levi contemplates her for a full second before replying, "Don't bother. I'll get Eren to finish up."

She raises an eyebrow and places one hand on her hip, staring at him. "He's not your _dog, _Corporal."

"Really?" he humours her, crossing his arms.

"Yes, really." Petra moves forwards and stands her ground—she's at least four inches shorter so he definitely has _some _high ground here. "Bossing him around and keeping him like a slave isn't okay. Can't you see he's still in pain over what he's done?"

He really can't control the condescending tone that seems to control his next sentence, "All I see is a brat with a big mouth. Let him prove himself before you put your trust in him."

She doesn't argue, though the firm set to her lips (_he's learned_) means she's definitely not happy. Petra has a funny way of being annoyed by his antics—she'll tell him bluntly, usually, but sometimes she'll stay quiet and look at him with eyes that scream at him to stop it. But no words will ever slip through those pink lips, and he wonders which is worse.

They remain like that for around thirty seconds. Until the suds of soap dry up and the detergent falls flat, leaving behind a tangy aftertaste. Levi likes seeing Petra angry. It means there's still something behind her walls to fight for. It means she's not given up on herself yet. That she's going to fight with skin and bone, with teeth and claws, until she wins. He likes it so much he closes the gap that exits between them.

Her amber eyes flare with surprise. "C-Corporal?" just like the first time.

He doesn't push a boundary. Levi lifts his hand and traces her jawline with his knuckle, imprinting upon her a fragment of his soul. He presses a thin index finger beneath her chin and lifts her head to stare right into his steel eyes.

"Live." he leaves her with one cryptic word; she stands hollow on ground, wavering back and forth, her heart lodged in his fists as he squeezes the air from her very body. This isn't fair. Petra doesn't turn around until he's out of sight, out of mind, as she holds a hand to her burning cheek and thinks _for you. _

**.**

He knows. If the fresh trail of bloody footprints isn't enough to tell him, then the way his heart seems to thump like a violent tirade does. His nostrils take deep inhales, the metallic taste of blood clinging to his skin, raw and real. Levi jumps from branch to branch, already expecting what he's seen so many times in his nightmares.

First is Gunther. Slashed at the neck, thrown aside like garbage.

Second is Erd. Half his body eaten. His eyes wide open, shock seemingly keeping them from shutting, blood smearing across his face.

Third, Auruo. Face to the ground, half his face sliced open and body bent in an awkward shape. Levi can clearly see the undercurrent of murderous intent etched into his last movements, as if a flashback, he can already see what is about to happen.

Petra Ral.

Her body imprisoned on a tree, spine collapsed, a part of its roots. Her head lulls backwards, eyes wide-open, ashen embers burning up the sky; she is a fallen angel, wingless and weaponless. And just poking out from her jacket pocket, the handkerchief he gave her so very long ago, blotched red from the blood spilling out of her nostrils. Levi can't control how his feet stop and he hovers there in mid-air, heart palpation's bursting through him, his skin crawling and stinging and everything is so _fucked. _And he said _live petra. live. _And she's here—fallen. He…

Doesn't have time for this, does he.

He finds, somewhere deep inside him, the strength to continue moving. Limbs heavy, wrought down by all the mistakes, all the comrades, all the promises that go up in flames, smoky coal eyes closing to the world. He gives her just one last look because he knows (_he's learned_) that if there's anything Petra would want, it would be for him to save Eren.

To live.

Humanities strongest.

_just for tonight._


End file.
